


Endurance Training

by invisibledeity



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Consensual Sex, D/s, Dominant/Submissive dynamics, Eventual Threesome, Light BDSM, M/M, Topping from the Bottom, awkward sex (at first), bedroom games, or maybe heavy BDSM, pre-game, then some competitiveness, there are three chapters because there are three dicks involved I guess, we shall see, why can't I write short things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 11:38:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10684533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisibledeity/pseuds/invisibledeity
Summary: Noctis wants to get kinky with Prompto, but lacks the confidence and the experience. It's a good thing the King's Shield is keen on training him, but when Gladio finally shows up, it turns out Prompto has a few surprises for everyone.Some pre-game Royal Palace based fun.





	1. Round One: Noctis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Runaround_Stu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runaround_Stu/gifts).



> This is for Runaround_Stu, who correctly guessed the translation of the place of worship I invented in Sugar in the Sacrament. Also for their lovely artwork. I hope you enjoy this, man, and you may be pleased to hear that I couldn't keep the dick-riding to one chapter. Three are planned. We begin with Noctis.
> 
> Also, sex is hilarious to write. I had a lot of fun with this.

‘Are you sure we should be in here?’

        The whisper at his back was softer than he expected. Noctis kept firm his grip on the door and glanced behind him. Prompto was worrying; his eyebrows were doing that cute upturned thing at the inner corners, creasing the skin near the bridge of his nose and bringing out the freckles there to a heightened degree. And that voice… man, he wasn’t used to him sounding so… well, coy.

        ‘Oh, come on. No-one’s gonna care.’ Noctis kept his voice casual, and pushed the door open a fraction wider. He hadn’t expected Prompto to be so shy about sneaking into the palace. Usually he was the outgoing one, the first to leap into the unknown, the one dragging Noctis haplessly behind him. So why the hesitation?

        ‘Dude, you’re the Prince. They wouldn’t dare tell _you_ off. But me…’

        ‘Hey, I get told off more than you’d think.’

        Prompto exhaled sharply, like he wanted to get this conversation over with.

        ‘Ignis says I’m a bad influence.’

        Gods, _that_ was why he was worried?

        Noctis cast his eyes over Prompto’s spiky hair, his punk rocker vest with the patches messily hand-sewn on, the studded belt wound around tight trousers. Was _that_ what Ignis meant? Or was it his uncouth tongue - the fact his first words were always ‘Hey, Noct,’ and not ‘My Liege.’

        Nothing wrong with having commoner friends. It kept him more grounded in reality. Something Ignis should take into consideration, really. Noctis sighed, then fixed Prompto with a bright expression.

        ‘Well, if that’s what he thinks, what’s the harm in living up to it once in a while?’ Noctis was pleased to see a wry smile twitch at the corners of Prompto’s mouth. Good. ‘C’mon, Prom. Seriously. This door is heavier than it looks.’ He put one arm round his friend’s shoulder and pulled him into the room. Prompto laughed, righting himself with a quick hop as the door thudded to a close.

        ‘Is that real gold?’ He was stroking the decoration along the door’s fingerplate, and Noctis couldn’t help but fixate on his hands, hardly small but thin and gangly nonetheless. An instrumentalist’s hands. He blinked. _Prompto asked you a question._

        ‘Uh, yeah, probably.’

        ‘Hah, you don’t even care, do you?’ Prompto’s laugh rang out again, clear and exuberant. Hadn’t taken him long to bounce back to his usual bold self. ‘So this is your training room, huh?’

        ‘Hall. Training hall.’

        ‘Dude, whatever.’

        The hall yawned before them, high walls decorated on every side with weapons and artwork and ornamental panelling.

        Prompto was staring in fascination at the floor. He could have picked anything in this room to stare at, but no, it was those slabs of grey stone mottled with ribbons of black that caught his attention.

        It was weird. But it was also cute. 

        ‘Where’s the mats?’

        ‘We, uh, we don’t use ‘em.’

        ‘Huh. Way more brutal than my gym.’

        It was probably meant to be a compliment, but it just made Noctis feel self-conscious. He idled around until his friend’s attention turned to the more interesting parts of the room.

        ‘Oh, dude - these weapons are so cool!’ Prompto paced up and down, tracing a finger across the fixings that held the array of spears, poles and swords to the wall. Then he span round to face Noctis. ‘They actually let you train with these?’

        Noctis shrugged.

        Prompto stopped by a large broadsword, stroking the ebony shaft in wonder. Gods, why did he have to stroke it like that?

        ‘It’s _huge_.’

        That was the one Gladiolus used. And he really didn’t want to be thinking about his abrasive personal trainer right now. Of course, Prompto didn’t know that. ‘Size isn’t everything,’ Noctis retorted, and Prompto’s eyes widened as he laughed again.

        ‘Did you just… Ahaha, why so touchy, Noct?’ He swatted Noctis on the shoulder, a light and playful tap that left a frisson running down his back. Recently, those touches had started feeling less like friendly fire and more like provocation. 

        But Prompto seemed pleased. The weapons were the reason he’d wanted to come here in the first place, and after Noctis’s last argument with Gladio, he’d been more than happy to oblige. Rebelling was more fun when he did it with Prompto. Yeah, he was letting a citizen in the Crown Palace without official invitation, and yeah, his Advisor seemed obsessed with calling Prompto a ‘bad influence’, but honestly, Prompto was far too innocent for Ignis to be worrying about.

        He was starting to stew in his own thoughts again. He broke it off, watched his friend instead, still gawking over the array of swords and halberds, giddy with glee.

        When the novelty of the weapons had worn off, Prompto danced on over to the benches at the far end. Noctis watched him move, a little jealous of his lithe and carefree movements, and a little stunned at this entire situation. Sure, Prompto had told him often enough that he couldn’t believe Noct wanted to be his friend, but really, it was the other way around. For him to have someone like Prom… it was pretty damn special, more so when everyone else around him was intent on treating him like an asset, some long-term investment for the throne. Prompto didn’t care about any of that.

        He was so fucking perfect and he didn’t even realise it.

        ‘So what did you want to do now?’ Noctis forced a casual step, joining him by the bench.

        ‘Ehh, I don’t know. Chill?’ Prompto sat down and stretched, pulled out his music player from his jeans pocket. A quick fumble with the wires, then he set the music going. He swung his legs as he listened, and he looked so at ease that Noctis was compelled to sink down next to him. Prompto offered an earbud and he took it.

        Sound washed over him, some fast-paced boisterous rock that was all shouty vocals and palm-muted power chords. It was not his music of choice, but it was so punchy, so full of life, and Prompto looked so goddamn happy listening to it that some of its good effects rubbed off on him. He leaned back, eyes glossing over the marbled floor, awash with the brightness Prompto brought with him.

        He wasn’t paying close enough attention, so he had no warning at all when Prompto leaned in. One second there was just the pattern on the stone floor, the next it was obscured by a flash of sunflower-blond hair and his lips were met with a fierce, pressing softness. Prompto was _kissing_ him.

       _Fuck, yes._

        He closed his eyes and kissed back, hesitant, worried he’d fuck it up, trying to enjoy it despite the tremulous pounding in his heart. And perhaps he wasn’t doing a great job, because Prompto pulled back, eyes all hazy and low-lidded and ever so slightly apologetic.

        ‘Maybe it’s, uh, because I’m not meant to be in here, but I just had to do that.’ A cheeky smile played upon his lips. Saliva glistened there and Noctis was overrun by the urge to feel it slick against his own lips once more. 

       _I’m in love with a boy, and he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen._

        ‘No, it’s okay. I, uh…’ Noctis cursed internally, gave up on talking and pushed forward, kissed him again. The fact that Prompto had initiated this situation, that he wanted the same thing as him, had made him giddy and he wasn’t about to lose out by saying something dumb. He kissed harder this time, pushing through his shyness, even flicking a tongue out over Prompto’s parted lips. A sudden tension against his mouth - the feeling of muscles tightening. Prompto was smiling.

        Then Prompto guided Noctis’s hands to his waist and gods, his stomach was so toned beneath that vest. He felt a slight tremble run through his body as he realised Prompto meant him to go further, and of course, just his luck, Prompto picked up on the hesitation.

        ‘You want this, right?’ 

        He nodded, not quite sure what he could say that wouldn’t ruin the mood.

        The corners of Prompto’s mouth caught up in a grin. ‘Then just… give in. Take what you need.’ And in a move so fluid it barely registered, he had swung one leg over the bench so he was straddling it, facing him directly and gods, he looked so intense, eyes daring, pupils dilated like he had been drinking. This position allowed him to press up against Noct’s hip and gyrate, making him squirm. 

        ‘Noct…’

        Hearing his name, feeling that tantalising pressure against his body, Noctis shuddered. Prompto had started kissing him again, parting his mouth, lips falling so open for him, begging him to just _take_. He did so voraciously, and as Prompto ran his hands up his chest, searching for and toying with his nipples, his mind flashed back to how those hands had looked grasping the shaft of the broadsword. Those agile fingers tracing the door frame. He felt a blush rise mid-kiss as he imagined what those hands could do to him. If only he’d place them a little lower…

        He couldn’t wait. He grabbed his wrists, tried to push them down towards his groin, noticing for the millionth time that summer that Prompto’s arms had gotten so muscular. More than normal, anyway. School was out for summer, after all, and that left an abundance of time. Prompto seemed to fill most of it at the gym.

        And gods, did it show. Those arms… they’d be perfect for holding him down. Pinning him, rendering him unable to escape while he penetrated him. Fuck, his dick was rock solid just thinking about it.

        What he wasn’t counting on was Prompto using that strength to override him, to guide his own hands back towards jutting hips as he lay back on the bench, pulling Noctis along with him until he was practically on top of him. Except now, Noctis had his back twisted at a weird angle. So he had to break out of the embrace and straddle the bench too. He wasn’t nearly as graceful as Prompto had been, and he felt a nerve catch awkwardly in his bad leg. Old wounds shivering into life at the most inappropriate time. He ignored it, held down a wince of pain. He didn’t want Prompto noticing, or stopping for his sake. Not now.

        The fact that Prompto could hardly wait to pull him back in brought the excitement bubbling up once more. Soon they were face to face again, Prompto looking all demure and eager beneath him, blond hair framing that defined yet angelic jawline, lips parted just enough to beckon, and Noctis realised he had no fucking idea of what to do next.

        ‘Noct, can you…’ Prompto cupped Noctis’s hand round his buttock, raising his eyebrows, yearning. Then he moved his hands south, and Noctis felt a thrill as Prompto’s nimble fingers rubbed against his groin, pulled at his belt, worked their way inside his pants to manipulate his dick with an unexpected precision. He managed to free the head and most of the shaft from the confines of his underwear, and stroked back the foreskin before pulling it gently forward again, glossing a thumb over his glans already glistening with pre-come. All the while, he was squirming and thrusting his buttock against Noctis’s somewhat trapped hand. Noctis took the hint and squeezed, watched his eyes light up. He’d squeezed a lot harder than he’d intended, but the effect on Prompto’s face was magical to witness. That flush to the cheeks, the surprise, the slight pain giving way to bliss - he wanted more, and so he squeezed again. It was hard to keep at it while Prompto toyed with his cock so expertly, but then Prompto stopped, and looked up at him, eyes smouldering. ‘I want to be taken…’ He craned his neck upward, to whisper in Noctis’s ear. ‘By _my king_.’

        Wasn’t this going too fast?

        ‘You want to… have sex?’ He immediately regretted how pathetic those words came out.

        Prompto batted his eyelashes in faux-deference. ‘Noctis… you’re my _only_ hope!’

        Noctis groaned. ‘Seriously, no cheese! You’ll kill my boner.’

        ‘Hah, wouldn’t want that! But yeah, I guess I’m trying to say… I want you to fuck me.’

        Well, this wasn’t what he imagined. He’d wanted Prompto to take control of _him_ , not the other way round. He really hadn’t figured his cocky, outgoing friend would be the submissive one.

        And now this was running the risk of getting awkward.

        ‘Wait, me? But… you…’

        What was he even trying to say? He cringed inwardly.

        Prompto laughed.

        ‘Okay, put it this way. A king should serve his people, right? So serve me.’

        ‘I take it back, _that_ might be the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said.’

        He saw what Prompto was doing. So he’d figured by now that Noctis wasn’t naturally drawn to being dominant, and it was pretty sweet of him trying to reframe the situation, turn it into something where he was being commanded. Wasn’t there a word for that? Topping from the bottom, something like that?

        It wasn’t like he didn’t want to do it - he wanted to make Prompto feel good, after all. He was just so uncertain. He’d never done this before.

        Then Prompto pouted and his mouth was so rosy, so inviting, that he quite forgot about the cringeworthiness of the last sixty seconds. Warmth blossomed across his chest and _fuck_ , he had to be in love, because the next thought he had was one of complete, unwavering devotion.

         _I’d do whatever you ask me to._

        Well, Prompto had made it quite clear what he wanted, so he may as well begin. He leaned in.

        ‘Work me open,’ Prompto whispered, arms threaded round his neck, thighs inching upward to allow easier access to his ass. Noctis obliged, and undid his jeans, hitching them off the small curve of his ass. He was unsure if he should take them all the way off - no, it was too risky, he’d have to remove his boots as well and he’d definitely bungle that. Not sexy. So he left the jeans stuck halfway down Prompto’s thighs, trying not to think about how strange Prompto’s legs looked stuck up in the air like that. Instead he focussed on Prompto’s dick, lying erect against his stomach as he reclined on the bench. It was every bit as big as he’d figured, and the tight trousers Prompto liked to wear had never left much to the imagination. Fascinated, he watched it twitch as he began circling his asshole gently with his fingers, tracing across the tender skin, making Prompto shiver as he encouraged him. ‘Yeah, there… just tease it open with your fingers. Wait, wet your fingers first, that’s all you need for now. I’ve got - for later - oh!’ He gasped as Noctis pushed his index finger into the tight ring of muscle, gingerly at first, then harder as he got used to the feeling.

        Noctis kept up a steady pace, trying not to slip as the bench glistened with accumulating sweat.

        ‘No, just a little higher… Deeper.. yes, there! Oh, wait…’

        He wasn’t doing a very good job at this. He switched to tentatively kissing Prompto’s thighs.

        ‘Don’t stop! Please…’ Prompto stretched one hand over his ruched-up jeans, and grabbed Noctis’s dick again, using the other hand, still round his neck, to pull him closer. He gripped harder, stroked faster, drawing low moans from Noctis until the urgency to work his ass open and lay claim to him peaked. His movements grew frenetic, and as he introduced a second saliva-slicked finger to his hole and thrust in deep, he dragged a hoarse, exultant cry from his friend. He’d hit somewhere good. He drew back, ready to delve in again, wondering whether he should pry those deft fingers away from his dick and get ready to move in on him proper, when a loud creak resonated through the chamber.

        The door was opening.

        ‘Oh shit! Noct, stop! Shit, shit, _shit_.’

        Prompto tried to sit up and failed, his legs a tangle, his arms flailing. The problem was, in his panic Prompto had clenched his hole tight and Noctis was struggling to remove his fingers without tearing or causing painful friction. He tried to simultaneously retract his right hand and hide his erection back in his pants with the left, all the while wondering why the hell someone was interrupting them. He’d specifically chosen this time out-of-hours so this wouldn’t happen. Not that he’d expected to end up in _this_ position.

        ‘Hey, is someone in he - Oh…’

        Of _all_ people. It was Gladiolus.

        He should have gone home hours ago, but right now the King’s Shield was blocking the doorway with his broad shoulders, staring at the pair of them with pure disbelief written across his face.

        Noctis was certain he was going to get a ribbing. But the next thing to come out of Gladio’s mouth was, ‘Prompto? What are _you_ doing here? Why are you… With him…?’

        Equally confusing was Prompto’s reply. 

        ‘Uh, hey, Gladio. Yeah… Didn’t… expect to see you here. So, uh, how’re you doing?’

        Noctis wasn’t surprised by Prompto’s voice pushing up into a higher register. Embarrassment made sense - he himself was feeling that all too acutely. No, what got him was the fact that Prompto spoke like he was familiar with Gladio. To his knowledge they’d only ever met once, at the arcade that time he’d bunked off training. So this felt odd.

        Gladio spent a moment taking in the scene, then relaxed against the door frame, smoothing his unruly brown hair back. Wait, was he _winking_ at Prompto? 

        ‘Tryin’ to teach the young Prince some things from last time? Position looks familiar.’

        Then Prompto was smiling back, looking more like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar than an adult caught committing a shameful act.

        Oh. Oh, _shit_. He understood. Why was it that with everything he tried to do, Gladio always seemed to get there first? He breathed out, trying not to make his huffing too obvious. He suddenly didn’t feel like asking Prompto for clarification; it was clear enough they’d slept together. His raging hard-on hadn’t vanished, and only seemed to get stronger the angrier at Gladio he became. This was _really_ not how he imagined his first time with a guy would go. What the hell was going to happen now?


	2. Round Two: Gladio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gladio never expected to find the Prince getting frisky with another man in the training hall. Perhaps even less so to find out it's the blond guy he met at the club last week. 
> 
> A chapter in which a delicious situation presents itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, Runaround_Stu. I've been dying to finish this chapter up for so long! Only one more left now, and it'll be a fun one >:)

It had been a long day. All Gladiolus wanted to do was finish his duties, lock up the palace sparring room and head on home. Maybe hit the gym near his house for a few hours. By the Six, he needed to unwind, and it was better to do it someplace far from the Citadel, where he didn’t have the constant reminders of duty and fate pasted on the walls.

            At first he thought he was just hearing things; the leftover buzz from a hectic day. But no, the sounds coming from behind the heavy gold-plated door were unmistakeable. He paused. Someone was in here when they shouldn’t be. Doing things they shouldn’t be doing.

            The Prince wasn’t exactly known for his dedication towards training, so when Gladio flung the door open he hadn’t expected to find him inside. He certainly wasn’t expecting to see the tight fuck from last week splayed out under the Prince’s trembling frame, legs akimbo, ass raised. He snorted. Should have guessed the blond would be trouble.

            Then the delicacy of the situation hit him.

_Shit, I already knew about Blondie, but the Prince, too?_

            Come to think of it, that would explain how bothered Noctis had gotten that one time he’d shown him some close-contact judo throws. At the time he’d just figured it for embarrassment, but now he found himself second-guessing.

It could be a problem if word got out. Noctis was to wed Lady Lunafreya, and royalty didn’t have the same amount of leeway in personal relationships as common folk. Papers would have a goddamn field day with this.

            And the blond kid, Prompto… he’d already gotten Ignis to do a background check on him after their first encounter at the club. Not only was he a commoner, but he was a Niff immigrant. Also a big deal for the papers.

            _How selfish of you, Noct. Could’ve at least shown some decorum and taken this to the bedroom._

Old frustrations simmered to the surface, but only to mix with delicious joy upon realising that here, he had the upper hand.

            So he greeted Prompto first, twisting the knife some by referencing their earlier encounter, and felt sweet satisfaction watching the horror on the Prince’s face. Prompto, bless him, wasn’t fazed at all by the revelation, in fact, his coy, cheeky expression only seemed to dance all the more brightly across that gorgeous face.

            Fuck, his mouth was parting into a loose grin and it was far too open. Just begging to be dammed. Gladio felt his groin heat up. _Not the time. Not in front of the Prince, come on._

But who’s to say Noctis wouldn’t be into that? He already knew Prompto was.

            He let the idea incubate at the back of his mind.

            In the time it took him to will his erection down to some semblance of decency, Noctis finally linked the pieces together. He was looking from Prompto, to Gladio and back again, and his face was painted in something akin to horror.

            ‘Where… How?’ Noctis couldn’t even form the words correctly. It’d be cute, if it wasn’t so damn unbecoming for a prince. Gladio grinned. No harm in giving him answers: it’s what he wanted.

            ‘A few weeks back. At a bar in town.’

            ‘Balamb Garden,’ Prompto offered helpfully.

            ‘I’ve… never heard of it.’

            Gladio grunted. ‘Didn’t think you would’ve.’

            ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

            He couldn’t hide a smirk. _Hah, you’re too damn innocent._ But he didn’t reply aloud; he let Noctis simmer.   

            ‘So you’ve…’

            ‘Yeah. We have.’

            Noctis was struggling with some hidden thought. Then he turned his focus to Prompto.

            ‘That’s not why you asked to come here, is it?’ That sad puppy-dog expression was unbecoming on the face of a prince. Noctis seemed genuinely hurt.

            Prompto’s immediate reaction was one of surprise.

            ‘Dude, ’course not!’

            Gladio had been hovering by the door, but now he stepped forward into the room. He wasn’t about to let Noctis get away with such an accusation, and he didn’t like seeing Prompto put on the spot like that.

            ‘You really think he’d do that? He’s not the selfish sort…’ Gladio let the sentence hang, to imply that Noctis, of course, was.

            ‘Hey!’

            Huh. Noctis was acting so petulant, and again, surprisingly, Gladio found himself thinking ‘ _Cute.’_

            A moment more of that poorly-restrained fury, then Noctis dropped his glowering and turned to Prompto.

‘I’m sorry, Prom. It’s just…’

            He jerked his head in Gladio’s direction, the minutest of movements. Gladio knew what he wanted to say, and it made bitterness rise.

            _It’s just the idea of him with me, isn’t it?_

            Prompto was trying to justify himself now, like he even needed to.

            ‘Noct, whatever I’ve done before shouldn’t matter anyways. Up until today, I… I didn’t think you were even interested in me.’

            At this, Noctis said nothing, and an awkward silence hung over the room. Gladio was still bristling, still torn between wanting to knock the prince sideways for his idiocy and wanting to relieve the building pressure in his groin.

_Maybe he could work out his frustration in both matters right here, right now._

            He felt his mouth curl into a wry grin as an idea hit him.

            ‘How about we make this more interesting.’

            ‘What do you mean?’

            ‘You missed out on your training again today, Noct.’ He spoke low and husky, letting his words settle in the air between them. ‘So, how ‘bout we settle the score now.’

            ‘Settle the… score?’

            ‘Yeah.’ He locked the door behind him, and grinned wolfishly, striding over to the weapons rack. ‘First one to knock the other down to the floor gets to fuck Prompto.’

            At this, both their mouths fell open, although Prompto’s quickly turned to a wide smile, and he laughed.

            ‘Oh, I totally see what you’re playing at, big guy.’ He sat forward where he was perched on the bench, hands intently gripping his knees. ‘Annnd I like it.’ He sighed out and with a spring in his movements, leaned back, body on display. ‘Noct, if you win, you can have me. Any way you want. And he’ll have to watch.’

            That sly voice was doing nothing to cool Gladio off. _Fuck_ , he’d set himself up. Couldn’t let Noct win now.

            Noctis huffed, tapped his foot, thought for a moment.

            ‘You’re really okay with this?’

            ‘Dude, I am _so_ into this.’

            Noctis’s cheeks grew flushed, even more than before, and Gladio watched in amusement as a flash of what looked like jealousy crossed the young prince’s face. So he goaded him some more.

            ‘If you bail out, I finish locking up the training hall and we all go home unsatisfied.’

            ‘Dude, c’mon, he’s not forcing you to,’ Prompto added. ‘No, uh, pressure.’

‘No. I’m doing this.’ Noctis looked angry; well, good. Perhaps he would actually fight well this time.

            Gladio grinned.

            ‘Then it’s settled.’

            He pulled his favoured broadsword from the wall, moving to the arena lines demarcated on the stone slabs. The fighting ring was his element, his friend, more his home than his own house was.

 _‘_ I’m warning you: if I win, I’ll show you how it’s really done.’

            ‘Fine. Let’s go.’

            Noctis plucked a spear from the walls. _Brave choice - he’s not as experienced with that as with the sword - what’s he playing at here?_

Gladio whirled the sword around expertly with one hand. It was a two-handed weapon, and the move was designed to intimidate. However, it seemed Noctis was either too inexperienced or to incensed to care.

            Noctis wasted no time in leaping to action, swinging the spear in a wide arc. Gladio saw this coming a mile off and knocked him to the side. Gods, this might be even easier than he expected.

            But Noct wasn’t done. The blunt end of the spear clanged into the ground, bracing his fall. Only a stagger of the knees, and he was upright again.

            ‘Didn’t think I was gonna make it that easy for you, did you?’

            Gladio grunted, brought his sword at the ready again. He drove in for the attack, and Noctis dodged almost effortlessly, dancing round his spear with agility befitting of a gymnast. Gladio couldn’t even get a hit in with the butt of his sword, much as he tried to surprise the prince.

            ‘Damn, if I’d known you were gonna fight this well, I’d have fucked the blond sooner.’

            ‘His name’s _Prompto!’_ Noctis lashed out, using the spear as leverage to perform another leap. A flash of blue, and something grazed Gladio’s cheek. The blunt side of the spear. Noctis’s face, only inches away from his own. Huh. The boy had used his Royal powers to warp - now _that_ , he hadn’t been expecting. Figured it’d only happen when he became emotionally compromised.

            A whoop from Prompto in the background. Damn, he was really enjoying this, wasn’t he?

            Knees collided with his chest and Gladio felt the inertia pull at his trunk, nearly enough to bring him down. So he dropped one leg back and pivoted, grabbing for Noctis’s arm, dragging him round, using the force of his own attack against him. A small moment in which the fear showed plainly on Noctis’s face, then he was slammed into the ground. Gladio bellowed in victory, then stood over the fallen prince, a wide grin on his face.

            ‘Bested, Your Highness.’ He touched a finger to his own forehead, watching Noctis glower at the self-assured gesture. Then, like a change in the weather, he dropped all bitterness, all rage. There was no point to it, not now he’d won. He’d had his small moment. Prompto was leaning back on the bench, expectant, waiting, positively _glowing_.

            Gods, this was gonna be good.

            Noctis paled as Gladio strode over to the wall, cornering Prompto. It didn’t escape Gladio’s attention, and he slowed his pace. Spoke firmly.

            ‘You gave it your all, so… If you wanna leave, I’m not going to force you to watch.’

            A moment in which Noctis grappled for mastery over his emotions, then again, he stared him down, looking resolute. Determined.

            ‘No. I lost. I shouldn’t go back on my word.’

_So, the prince may yet be worthy of becoming a king._

Gladio left that unsaid. Little point in throwing him a bone at this stage, it’d only come off as shallow. Instead, he leaned in to Prompto, grasping the nape of his neck under one firm hand. A forceful yank and Prompto was standing upright, staring up at him with wide eyes. He didn’t need to use such force, but it did wonders for the tension, and if Prompto’s thrilled expression was any indication, he fucking _loved_ it.

            There was a sharp hitching of breath from behind him. Apparently, so did Noct.

            ‘So, blondie, just how badly d’you want this?’ His voice rumbled low and Prompto shuddered out his reply, straining against the firm grip, eyes darting down to Gladio’s belt hungrily.

            ‘Want me to show you?’

            Gladio responded by placing Prompto’s slender, prying hand onto his groin.

            ‘You know what to do.’ And as Prompto began to unbuckle his belt, fingers tripping up over stiff leather, Gladio kissed him all too forcefully, smiling into his lips. Prompto finally freed his swollen dick and began stroking softly, then harder as Gladio increased his grip, pushing him back aggressively until his head pressed against the wall. Then Gladio reached down to get at Prompto’s belt too, not letting up on the aggression for an instant.

            Beside them, Noct flinched, hand twitching, ready to intervene. But Prompto was too busy enjoying himself to notice, responding with gasps and groans as Gladio manhandled his erection.

            ‘Ah! Yeah… there…’

            Apparently this enthusiastic display wasn’t enough to convince Noctis.

            ‘Prom, you okay?’

            ‘Shh, Noct…’ And Prompto looked up at the prince with sultry eyes that almost made Gladio feel jealous. That was, until he remembered he was steering the scenario. ‘Gladio, I want him to come over here and kiss me while you… Can he… Please?’

            Gods, why did those eyes make it so hard to resist? Gladio felt the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. ‘Not until I say so.’ He directed his next words at Noctis. ‘So. Your Highness. How should I take him?’

            Noctis rubbed the back of his neck, avoided meeting his eye. Didn’t look like he’d ever been so turned on before, and again, _fuck_ , it was cute.

            ‘I guess it’d be nice to be pushed onto my back like we - like we were when you came in?’ He spoke hesitantly, almost shyly, a mixture of underconfidence and longing, and the slip into first-person wasn’t missed for an instant.

            ‘Well, whaddya know… The Prince likes to serve.’

But no, if Noctis wanted to get off to this, he’d make him damn well work for it. Gladio cocked his head, offered up a smile. ‘But Prompto’s submissive. You wanna make him happy, you gotta take control. Like this.’ Those last two words were the only warning Prompto got before Gladio flipped him over onto his back, tugged his pants off. A more dramatic echo of the position Noctis had him in earlier.

            And goddamn, that _moan_.

            He cupped his hand beneath Prompto’s balls, teased at his asshole with the lightest touch of his fingertips.

            ‘Lube’s in the… in the…’ Prompto, breathless, pointing towards his pocket. Gladio pulled out the small tube and couldn’t help but chuckle. _So discreet._ Nice that he came prepared. He drew out enough from the bottle to coat his fingers, then returned to his delicate teasing.

            ‘Gladio, please…’

            Prompto was angling his ass upward, impatient as ever. It was part of what made him so damned attractive, honestly. He was so _needy_ , he wanted to be taken so badly.

            ‘No. You’re only ready when I say you are, sunshine.’ He smirked. ‘Noct, are you watching?’ And he teased him open slowly for a few agonising seconds, long enough to make him whimper in anticipation, then in one swift motion, sank his finger fully in, enjoying the squeal this wrought.

            He worked him open for the next few minutes, adding a second finger and then a third.

            Prompto’s cheeks were flushed, his arms raised against his face in a gorgeous half-stretch, hands dragging through his own corn-gold hair. A fucking gift from heaven. And Gladio evidently wasn’t the only one who thought so: a quick glance to the side revealed Noctis, face beet-red, hand reaching down his own pants.

            Time to up the ante. He retracted his fingers, pulled Prompto upright, then hefted him down onto all fours on the training room floor.

            ‘Noct. C’mere. Occupy his mouth for me.’


End file.
